


I Know What He Likes

by Mysterious_Cheekbones221B



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock BBC
Genre: Adlock, Johnlock - Freeform, Multi, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mysterious_Cheekbones221B/pseuds/Mysterious_Cheekbones221B
Summary: Mycroft Holmes discovers Irene Adler’s daughter, Hamish Elizabeth Adler, a genius matched only by Sherlock himself.Sherlock has a newfound happiness and stability with John and Rosie, as a family. Mycroft does everything in his power to make sure that Sherlock never finds out about Hamish, in order to keep the peace and let Sherlock live happy and uninterrupted.Along with the discovery of Hamish, Mycroft also stumbles upon evidence that Moriarty may not actually be dead and is still operating behind the scenes.
Relationships: Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. If You’re Looking For Baby Names

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I’m kind of new to ao3, so I don’t know how the formatting works with different chapters, this is just chapter one, so please don’t be disappointed when it doesn’t fulfill its summary. I wrote the summary for the entire thing, not just the first chapter.

“Ms. Adler, please state your name for the record,” Mycroft Holmes pressed record on the tape. Staring into the eyes of a very familiar face, he repeated himself, “Ms. Adler, your name please. Your full name.”

“Which one?” Mycroft, for the first time in a long time, looked puzzled.

“Your full name. The one on your birth certificate.” He repeated himself, again, staring at the woman across the table. Her blue eyes looking straight into his, without blinking.

She brushed back a wisp of her curly brown hair, “why, Mr. Holmes, I don’t have a birth certificate. As you would say, ‘when avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet.’” Mycroft gaped, thinking back to the last time he’d said that. Smirking, Ms. Adler slouched back into her chair, taunting Mycroft.

“Your name?” Mycroft persisted. In six months no one had managed to get a single word out of her, he was the only one who could get her to talk, and that reminded him of someone, not so fondly.

“‘William Sherlock Scott Holmes’ Curious how he doesn’t use his first name? Maybe he just wanted to be like his big brother, with an odd little name.” Mycroft was visibly annoyed at this point. No matter what he asked, she always managed to stall until their time was up.

“Your name.” Mycroft continued to push, he wasn’t going to lose this time. Of all the times he’s come in here, she ended up doing most of the question asking. She was a curious, manipulative person, and she had bested Mycroft far too much for his liking.

“I’ll tell you, if you answer me one little thing. Just the one,” Mycroft nodded, “he is gay isn’t he, Sherlock? My mum told me stories. She always thought he was. And of course Jim, Jim knew it.” Mycroft froze.

“What did you just say?” Standing up and leaning forward, Mycroft was angrier than he’d ever been with Ms. Adler. His face turned a bright red, as the name Jim ran through his head. 

“My mum, she told me stories. But that’s not the bit you meant is it? Well, that’s too bad, I agreed to tell you my name, just my name. You’ll have to wait for the rest.”

“Fine, tell me. Tell me your name. Tell me your name right now!” Finally letting his anger show, Mycroft raised his voice, showing more emotion in that one moment than he probably had in the rest of the year.

“Hamish Elizabeth Alder,” she paused, “I believe you know the rest. Don’t you, Mr. Holmes? Or would you prefer I call you Uncle Mycroft?” Before Mycroft could respond, a buzzer sounded, signally the end of their session. Hamish smirked and waved a little goodbye, watching as Mycroft left the room. 

Once out, Mycroft turned to his assistant, “get me Dr. Watson, now.”


	2. The Half Of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft picks up John and takes him to meet Hamish. Upon arriving John thinks it’s all a joke, set up by Sherlock. Until Mycroft reveals the truth.

John Watson walked down the street, with a grocery bag in one hand and his mobile in the other.

Don’t forget milk -SH

John had, of course, forgotten the milk. About to turn   
the corner onto Baker Street, John was interrupted by a black sedan pulling up beside him. Damn, Mycroft. He thought to himself, begrudgingly getting in the back seat. Driving far from Baker Street, exiting the city, and entering the countryside, John looked out the window. As the city disappeared, John began to wonder where he was going, he tried to get the attention of Mycroft’s assistant, but this was a lost cause. After, what John estimated to be, fifteen minutes of driving, they finally arrived upon their destination. Stepping out of the car, John surveyed the surroundings. There was nothing to see for miles, stretching in all directions, except for the small structure in front of him. It couldn’t have been bigger than his own kitchen, with a single door and no windows. Mycroft stood outside, waiting.

“What the bloody hell is this, Mycroft?” John walked towards the door. Gesturing with his umbrella, Mycroft told John to freeze. Just then, the door opened, revealing an elevator, upon which three armed guards came out. The guards approached John, patting him down for any weapons, missing his very obviously concealed pistol.

“After you, Dr. Watson.” Mycroft pointed to the elevator with his umbrella, John stepped forward, getting in. Taking one last look around, Mycroft followed.

“What is this?” John asked one more time, knowing he probably wouldn’t get an answer. 

Mycroft sighed, “this is the most secure juvenile prison in all of London, maybe in all of the world, we-” 

John quickly cut him off, “juvenile? You keep kids down here? Bloody kids?” Mycroft took a deep breath and nodded, “by god, Mycroft, that’s a new level of insensitive.”

“That’s not even the half of it, John,” Mycroft said as the elevator doors slid open in front of them. Stepping off, John gaped. The hall went on for, what seemed like miles, lined with cell after cell. While most of them were rather nice, maybe even nicer than Baker Street itself, the rest looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned since the days of ancient Egypt. Mycroft and John continued walking until they got to the very end of the hall, John expected to enter into another cell, but instead he walked into a room full of computers, “now for the reason you’re here John,” Mycroft pressed a button on the keyboard and one of the screens lit up revealing a small, teenage girl, sitting in an empty cell, “meet Ms. Adler, the second most dangerous person I’ve ever encountered.”

John suppressed a laugh, “she’s a girl! A teenage girl! Oh, Mycroft, you really had me going there for a second. Where’s Sherlock?” John looked around, “okay, Sherlock, you got me. You can come out now.”

Mycroft shook his head, “this is not a joke, Dr. Watson. And Sherlock mustn't know a word of this.” John’s smile quickly faded.

“Did you say ‘Adler?’” Finally processing what Mycroft had told him, John staggered back a bit, blindsided. 

“My brother is happy, finally. I don’t want anything ruining that, please, Dr. Watson, for him, keep whatever I tell you between us.” John paused for a second, then nodded his head.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. I know it’s really short, but I promise more is coming relatively soon.


End file.
